


In the Red

by bellygunnr



Series: Free Men Plural [5]
Category: Half-Life
Genre: Face-Fucking, Gun Kink, Hate Sex, M/M, Stepping, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:54:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellygunnr/pseuds/bellygunnr
Summary: Barney thinks this whole... Gordon universe thing is a pain in the ass. Mostly just Freemind, though.
Relationships: Freeman's Mind/Barney Calhoun
Series: Free Men Plural [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931341
Comments: 9
Kudos: 87





	In the Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [level3security](https://archiveofourown.org/users/level3security/gifts).



“You know, in the beginning, I thought you were chasing us all through City 17.”

Barney looks at Freemind strangely, almost askance.

“But I don’t think you’d be able to handle a helicopter with very much finesse.”

Barney furrows his eyebrows and turns toward Freemind fully, arms braced over his chest.

“Do you think I know how to fly helicopters?”

“Well, no, but we all know stupid people can’t do much of anything--”

“I think you’re overstaying your welcome,” Barney snaps, cutting him off. “Don’t you have other things to do?”

“Let me check my schedule-- oh, wait. It’s all booked with this construction project! That _you_ put me on to- what was it? Keep an eye on me? Yeah, I bet you want to look at me. What, am I easy? Compared to the others, I bet you think so,” Freemind sneers.

Barney flushes, shaking his head. “What are you on about? Yeah, I would have fuckin’ asked one of the other Gordons but you’re the only one who can work power tools!”

“Bet you think it’s hot that I can use power tools,” Freemind replies, grinning with his mouth full of shark’s teeth. “Here, some water.”

Freemind shoves a dented bottle of water in Barney’s direction with enough force that most of the water sloshes over the rim. At Barney’s frustrated look, he just shrugs.

“Be more careful,” Barney says. “Here, a towel.”

Barney tosses a stained rag at Freemind’s face with one hand while drinking with the other. The water’s warm going down his throat, but it’s a reprieve from the heat outside. He glances at Freemind from the corner of his eye.

“Now you’re trying too hard not to look at me,” Freemind says.

Barney’s jaw creaks from how tightly he’s clenching it. Familiar pain from sour teeth starts up again, a dull sting in accompaniment of Freemind’s presence. It’s frustrating that he can look at him with rage and still feel his throat tighten up like he’s anxious. Breathtaking, his mind supplies, which is a dumb as hell adjective-- Freemind’s not pretty, or even handsome, let alone _breathtaking_ \-- he’s just mean-mugged and sharp-looking. And probably bony as hell, despite the clear evidence of his musculature straining beneath his shirt.

Barney takes another drink from his cup even though he knows it’s empty and flinches when Freemind throws a towel at him.

“Here, you’re sweating all over the place.”

At least it’s not the same towel he gave Freemind. He wipes his face and neck clear of sweat, noting that he’s being stared at all the while. An idea comes to mind.

Barney schools his expression into something neutral as he rolls up the hem of his tank top, drawing the garment up and over his head. He stretches out languidly in the same motion, groaning involuntarily at the feeling of working sore muscles. Still, he can see Freemind observing him, face red and expression rapt.

Barney feels pride at first-- he got Freemind to lose his composure-- but that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was showing off to _Freemind._ He grimaces at the realization.

“Let me guess-- shit your pants? Pull a muscle?” Freemind says instantly, having noticed the tightened expression. “Old guy like you shouldn’t be moving like that. Might hurt yourself.”

“Would you shut the fuck up?” Barney snarls back, his temper surging fast and hot.

“Make me,” Freemind says.

Barney does.

Barney draws on the burning remnants of his anger and channels it into impulsivity. His vision tunnels as he sinks into it, and he feels momentarily disconnected from his body as his fist flies, connecting with Freemind’s jaw with a raw sound.

Freemind has no time to react. The force of it sends him stumbling into the workbench that he catches himself on, jaw smarting from the strike.

There’s a tense moment where they just stare at each other. Then Freemind surges forward.

Barney blocks the punch and drives his boot into Freemind’s knee with a swift kick. On his way down, he kicks him again, pinning his chest to the floor with the flat of his boot.

“I think you’re going to have to learn to watch your mouth, Dr. Freeman,” Barney says, grinning crookedly.

Freemind bares his teeth up at him and lunges, one arm stretched out. His fingers grasp and pull at Barney’s denim jeans, just shy of the gun holster strapped around his thigh.

In an instant, Barney draws the pistol, aiming it at Freemind. His cock twitches at the shift in Freemind’s expression, the bared teeth and the bob of his throat as he swallows down fear.

“Nothing to say now that the shoe’s on the other foot?” Barney goads, putting weight down on his chest. “Finally going to think before you speak?”

“Fuck you,” Freemind spits. “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you? Your boner’s clear as day down here, Barney. Pretty fucked up, don’t you think, getting-- _ack!_ ”

Barney wedges the toe of his boot underneath Freemind’s chin and onto his throat. He presses down hard, choking him before abruptly letting off, sole just barely present over his neck.

“I feel the gun’s more for your benefit than mine, doc,” Barney says. “And if you wanted me to stop, you’d stop me. Isn’t that right, Freemind?”

They glare at each other, the air thick with tension. Freemind licks his lips and then runs his tongue over his teeth as if thinking about it, as if truly determining whether or not he could get out of this tangle.

“Do your worst,” Freemind says, voice a low growl. “You don’t have the balls to do-- _hrgk_!”

Once again, Barney chokes him off with his boot. He levels the barrel of the gun at Freemind’s head, clicking off the safety.

“Alright. Say one more word and I’ll shoot. Try to struggle, I’ll shoot. I’m gonna remove my foot now, and you’re gonna say nothing about it, understand? If you want to stop, slap the floor three times,” Barney says, his voice suddenly calm and level.

Freemind stares up at him, drawing in restricted breaths. His lips curl into a spiteful mockery of a smile.

“Slap the floor if you understand,” Barney orders.

Freemind slaps the floor with an open palm.

Satisfied, Barney flicks the safety back on and unloads the gun completely. He jams the magazine in his pocket before aiming back at Freemind, posture relaxed, even casual, as he lifts his foot off his throat.

“Do you ever listen to yourself when you talk?” Barney asks. “It’s nice to hear fuckall from you for a change.”

Barney leans back on his heels, finally lowering the pistol. He takes in Freemind’s prone frame, letting his eyes linger on his exposed stomach and flushed skin. His pants have slid down his hips somewhat, but the evidence of his arousal is there. Barney whistles, impressed.

He fixes Freemind’s gaze with his own as he lifts his leg, letting his boot hang suspended in the air for a palpable moment. He stomps down hard-- between Freemind’s spread legs, snorting derisively when Freemind squawks and jerks his legs apart.

“So you _can_ keep your mouth shut,” Barney hums.

He rewards him by stepping on his crotch much more gently, stepping fully between his legs so that he can loom over Freemind, gun still drawn. It’s an oddly heady feeling and he’s possessed by the urge to dismantle Freemind further, to really see him strung out and ruined.

Barney tosses the pistol aside to hurriedly undo his belt and unzip his jeans. He fishes his cock out with a low guttural sound, sensitive from not being touched for so long.

Freemind’s looking up at him with unabashed arousal and a little bit of rage-- if the furrowed brows and open-mouthed panting is anything to go by. He doesn’t make a sound as he props himself up on his elbows and works his hips up against Barney’s boot, tongue lolling out, nearly drooling.

“That looks good,” Barney growls. He presses down on Freemind’s crotch, rolling from his heel to his toe. “I’ve been wanting to mess you up like this for a long fuckin’ time, Dr. Freeman.”

Freemind’s eyes widen at the slip of the tongue and he bites down on some sort of noise, throat working furiously to contain it.

“No, no,” Barney says, pressing down harder. “Make some noise. Don’t be shy. Just don’t talk-- we’ve all had enough of you runnin’ your mouth like you’ve got good shit to say.”

He grinds his heel down-- with more purpose and care than perhaps necessary, if only to draw out that long strangled moan Freemind’s been holding back.

“You like being stepped on, I bet. Maybe that’s why you’re always fucking talking. Or maybe no one’s told you to shut the fuck up until now-- god, yeah, fuck yourself on my boot. Can you get yourself off before I do? Rabid fucking dog,” Barney spits.

Freemind slams his fist down, throat warbling with a high keening sound as he bucks his hips up beneath Barney’s foot. Up, down, he moves in jerky alternating patterns before settling on a smooth roll, seething through his teeth.

“Fuck, I hate you sometimes,” Barney barrels on. “All the time. You’re such a goddamn problem-- and you don’t feel bad about it at all! What-- _fucking_ \-- nerve,” he pants, his hand moving faster over his cock.

As Freemind tilts his hips up, Barney pushes down, eliciting another low moan. The wet spot between his legs is growing-- unabated and unabashed, perhaps even exacerbated by the rough treatment. Streaks of dust and dirty hand prints are visible where Freemind’s been wiping his hands off on his pants, only to collect more by scrabbling at the dirty concrete floor.

Barney focuses on Freemind’s teeth digging into his own lip and how high his shirt’s rucked up his torso, showing off coiled muscle and stiff nipples. He savors the strained expression, the way sweat runs down his nose, how his glasses are knocked slightly askew.

“You look pathetic fucking my heel, Doc.”

“Make up-- your mind,” Freemind growls, lip curled. “Do I look pathetic or do I look--”

Whatever else he was going to say is lost beneath Barney’s dirt-flecked sole. He grinds his heel hard into Freemind’s cheek, pushing his head to the side until his nose rubs into the ground.

“What did I say about talkin’?” Barney rumbles. “Worse, you talked back. Don’t know what else I was expectin’. It’s up to me what I want to call you, ya hear?”

With a grunt, Barney drops his weight down onto Freemind’s body, straddling his waist between his knees. His bad leg complains, but the pain is easily superseded by tracing his hands up and down his cock, eyes fluttering shut as he relishes the feeling. When he opens his eyes, Freemind is glaring, seemingly torn between looking at his dick or his face.

Barney makes it easy for him by manhandling him into position. He lifts himself back off of Freemind and grabs him by the shoulders, hauling him unkindly onto his knees.

“Hands behind your back or on me,” Barney orders sharply, standing to his full height. “You’re gonna do something worthwhile with that mouth, so help me God.”

Freemind snips his teeth just inches away from Barney’s cock in a fit of temper, but seemingly complies, folding his arms behind his back. He straightens up, licking his lips.

“Good choice, doc.”

Barney buries his hands in Freemind’s hair and yanks his face close, dick grinding up against his mouth and cheek until warm lips wrap around the head. Somewhat more gently, he feeds his cock deeper in, humming lowly at the wet heat. When he’s satisfied that Freemind’s not going to choke, he rolls his hips in earnest.

His fingernails dig into Freemind’s scalp as his pace picks up, rapidly deteriorating into something frenetic.

“Good-- good,” Barney groans. “Just like that!”

Between the workup, Freemind’s mouth, and the unforgiving rhythm, Barney almost doesn’t last long. At the last second, he pulls out with a wet pop, hips jerking unevenly as he comes with abandon over Freemind’s face and hair. Through hazy eyes, he has just enough wherewithal to run his fingers through his hair, smearing the cum into the greasy auburn locks.

“That’s a good one,” Barney sighs.

Unceremoniously, he releases him, stepping back several steps to take in his handiwork. Freemind is panting and wrecked, face glistening with a mixture of sweat, cum, and tears. His ponytail’s come loose, leaving his hair in frizzy tangles around his neck.

“Well,” Barney says, “have fun cleanin’ up here. I think I’m gonna go take a shower.”

With that, Barney tidies himself up and swiftly leaves the White Forest hangar-- and Freemind, still falling apart in the center.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a joy and a half to write.


End file.
